Redemption
by Awesomerigby
Summary: When James Norrington finally realizes the cost of his actions, he tries to pay it back. Reimagined version of my story "Entwined." One sided Norribeth


IMPORTANT: I HAVE A FANFICTION BLOG ON TUMBLR UNDER THE NAME AWESOMERIGBY. AS SUCH, YOU WILL SEE THESE SAME FICS ON THAT BLOG.

Redemption

What did he expect from her? Did he expect her to welcome him with open arms and an open heart, despite everything that he had put her through? He had proved he was selfish and undeserving of her love the moment he placed the heart of Davy Jones onto Lord Beckett's desk. He wanted the life he used to have so badly, but he seemed to forget that the life he used to have had her in it.

It was no surprise Elizabeth responded coldly to James. He may have had nothing to do with Governor Swann's death, but he was playing a large part in the war between the pirates and Beckett.

I swear, I did not know.

Know what? Which side you chose? Well, now you do.

She looked at him with so much loathing in her eyes that he wanted to die right then and there. Or at the very least, he wanted to take back everything he had done. He would rather be thrown out of taverns in Tortuga. He would rather be lying in the mud next to the pigs. He would rather be nothing than what he was now. Once a respectable man, he was nothing more than scum. He was no different than the pirates he had vowed to fight. No… He was worse.

James's gaze ran over the blade on his desk. Will Turner had made it some years ago for his promotion ceremony. He remembered holding it in his hands, feeling so much pride. Now, it held bitter memories of the man he used to be, the man that was now dead.

He sighed and leaned back against his chair, running his hands over his face. He knew he had to do something. Even if he were offered no forgiveness, the true James Norrington wouldn't allow this. He would step up and be the honorable man and make the right choice, just as he had done so many years before.

Grabbing his sword, James left his quarters and made his way to the brig. This blade—the blade he had used in times of betrayal—could now be the path to his redemption.

The keys jangled as he shoved them inside the lock and opened the gates to the brig, where Elizabeth was watching him with wide eyes.

"Come," he said. "Quickly!"

As her men began shuffling out of the brig, Elizabeth took wary steps towards her old friend. He could barely blame her, but he hoped she would allow him to help her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Choosing a side."

She followed James out of the brigs and onto the deck, where the crew was already using the ropes to escape. She was still looking at James cautiously, as if she wasn't sure she could trust him.

"Do not go to Shipwreck Cove," he told her seriously. "Beckett knows of the meeting of the Brethren. I fear there may be a traitor among them."

Elizabeth leaned closer, her eyes full of malice. "It's too late to earn my forgiveness," she spat. James had expected her to say that, and still, it did not matter, no matter how desperately he may have needed it.

"I had nothing to do with your father's death," he had to let her know. His voice softened, and his eyes cast downwards. "But, that does not absolve me of my other sins."

"Come with us," Elizabeth said suddenly, and he looked up at her in confusion. She turned to face him, her eyes now as soft her as voice. "James, come with me."

Those three little words had his heart soaring. Come with me, she had said. She was allowing him the right back into her life, and she cared. She had every right to hate him and wish him dead, but she had forgiven him and she wanted him to be alive and well, despite his sins.

He was about to respond when a voice broke the silence.

"Who goes there?" Bootstrap Bill shouted.

James immediately shielded Elizabeth behind him and brandished his sword, ready to fight anyone who would put her at risk.

"Go," he told her, his voice cracking despite his attempts to stay calm. "I will follow."

She must have picked up on his tone because she said, "You're lying."

James took his attention off Bootstrap for a moment to turn to Elizabeth. He wanted nothing more than to go with her, to help her against the enemy, but if he had to give her his life in order to protect her, there was no question that he would do it.

"Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth," he said. It was a cruel world, wasn't it? Oh, it toyed with emotions so much as he weaved in and out of Elizabeth's life, always finding some hope of being with her. But, he knew. Somehow, he always knew. She couldn't love him, no matter how hard she might have tried. She could never pick him over Will. His eyes flickered down to her lips. "But, never joined…" He bent down and met her lips. He had often dreamed of this moment. Her lips were soft beneath his, and in that brief moment, she kissed back, and his heart ached for what could have been.

"Go, now!" he yelled as he hesitantly pulled away. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Elizabeth climb up onto the rope and begin to leave. Good… She'll be safe, and she will reunite with Will and Jack, and they will put a stop to this mess. She will have the life she was always meant to have with Will, the life James always wanted with her.

"Back to your station, sailor," he told Bootstrap.

"No one leaves the ship."

"Stand down. That's an order."

"'That's an order,'" Bootstrap repeated. His eyes met James's. "Part of the crew, part of the ship. Part of the crew, part of the ship."

"Steady, man."

"Part of the crew, part of the ship. All hands, prisoner escape!" he shouted.

James's heart constricted, and he pulled out his pistol. "Belay that!" he shouted desperately.

"James!" Elizabeth shouted. "James!" James looked at her, and he saw—with terror—that she was scrambling to get back to him.

Tears in his eyes, James raised his gun to the rope and pulled the trigger, causing Elizabeth and her crew to fall into the black ocean.

As soon as he had given her the chance to escape, James felt cold steel piece through his body.

"James!" Elizabeth was screaming. "James! No! NO!"

James slumped down onto the deck with a small groan, and despite the pain, he felt… strangely happy. It didn't matter if he died now. Elizabeth was safe… and though he didn't deserve it, she had forgiven him, and she had cried for him, and she had loved him, in her own way.

"The admiral's dead," the crew, who had appeared upon hearing Bootstrap's yells, were saying. "Admiral's dead."

James heard loud, clunking footsteps, and Davy Jones arrived at the scene.

"To the captain's cabin!" Maccus yelled, and the crew retreated.

Davy Jones knelt in front of James, a mad gleam in his eye and a smirk on his face. The captain had become not much more than a blur as James was beginning to succumb to his wound.

"James Norrington, do you fear death?" he asked.

Of course he didn't fear death. He was dying a happy man, rather than living life as a cruel, disgusting one. That alone was enough for him to respond to Davy Jones's questions by stabbing him with his sword. That last bit of strength drained out of him, and James's body went limp, and his last thought was, Good luck, Elizabeth.

 **The End**


End file.
